


kell még egy szó

by fallenidol_453



Category: István a király - Szörényi/Bródy/Bródy & Boldizsár
Genre: Blood and Injury, Canon Compliant, Don't copy to another site, Final Conversation, Gen, Historical References, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:02:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25511044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallenidol_453/pseuds/fallenidol_453
Summary: When praying to God provides no answers, sometimes one needs to seek out their own answer to the problemorone last conversation
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	kell még egy szó

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own István a király; all rights go to Boldizsár Miklós, Bródy János, and Szörényi Levente.
> 
> Fic title is taken from the song Kell még egy szó from the film Honfoglalás; a messy translation would mean "I need one more word".
> 
> The fic is set between the reprise of Oly távol vagy tőlem and Koppány felnégyelése/Gloria gloria.
> 
> Additional notes are located at the end.

The bloodthirsty shouts of the mob echo in his mind no matter how hard he tries to shut them out.

István’s hands clench together tightly, wrists banging on the solid wood of the pew. He has a choice: keep his uncle imprisoned or obey his mother’s order to have him die. He had already made up his mind, but remained doubtful of his choice. But God will not provide an answer to his prayered plea for help.

He rises to his feet. He intended to leave the church and rejoin his courtiers, but he finds himself walking toward the dungeons instead.

Was God making him seek out his own answer instead of seeking divine help?

He did not know. But it felt like a good place to start.

&

The dungeons were dim and cramped, the cell floors covered with old hay and molded rushes. István followed the jailer to one of the farthest placed cells and stopped. He sent the jailer and the two guards stationed at the cell door away with a wave of his hand. The three men retreated, but István knew that the guards wouldn't go very far. They would position themselves far enough away to not eavesdrop, but close enough to come to István's rescue should the man he's come to see attacks.

Such an attack was unlikely. But if it would soothe the guards' imaginary worries, then so be it.

He has to squint to see inside the cell. A single torch with a weak flame is all that lights up the cell, beyond the thin streaks of sunlight that come in through a high window. Koppány sits on a pile of the cleanest looking straw his cell has, still clad in the bloodied rags István's knights had paraded him out in. His wrists are chained, and they rattle with every little movement he makes. His hair is matted with blood and dirt.

"Vajk," he rasps. István had not gone by his birth name since his baptism, but he did not correct his uncle. It was only them here; he could forgive this slight.

"Uncle _._ "

Silence. Then--

"Why are you here?"

István had no answer. He had already made up his mind about his uncle's fate. But one last conversation with him… perhaps this was what he sought to clear his doubts.

"I have no regrets fighting you, nephew. I had believed that the ancient ways would be honored, and that I would be Grand Prince after my brother," Koppány whispered in the darkness. He coughed, a horrible sound that made István shudder, and blood trickled from his mouth. "For all of his trivial belief in God, I did not expect Géza to follow the Christian way of deciding heirs. But do you know what you've done by keeping me prisoner?"

"It was not my idea to take you alive. But my mother demands you be made an example of--"

Koppány let out a wheezing chuckle that sounded pained.

"That she-wolf. Let Sarolt execute me herself if that will satisfy her anger and bloodlust toward me."

That, István privately assured himself, was not going to happen. She would be happy enough seeing his uncle die.

"--and I am aware of the implications of keeping you hostage here. Your people will not stop fighting until you are free or dead," István finished.

"Look at me, nephew. I am ready to die," Koppány stated roughly. There was no malice in his voice. "Your reign will never be secure unless I am dead."

His uncle was right. There was no way Koppány would be able to survive for more than a day in his current state, if he even managed to overpower his guards and walk out of the palace. But--

"Do you still have doubts over killing your own kinsman, Vajk, even though you know that it's necessary?" Koppány asked. István flinched, and Koppány smiled bloodily. "Your father had no qualms slaughtering most of his kin before you were born. But even the kindest kings have to make hard choices that go against their conscience. I hope, for your sake, that killing me is the only hard decision you must make in your life."

"I wish our war had not come to this," István stated softly.

"I die without regrets," Koppány replied. "I only wish my people could live as freely as I had promised them, with the ability to keep worshiping our gods and coexisting with your Christian subjects without prejudice."

István sighed heavily. Should he tell his uncle what he planned to do? Koppány very likely knew his surviving subjects had been forced to convert, but what of his allies and any remnants of his people who had escaped the battle and fled? How would he react if István told him what he wanted to do?

He weighed the good and bad of telling him, and ultimately said nothing. What use is a dying and condemned man’s opinion on matters that will soon no longer concern him?

István stepped away from the cell. Koppány was ready and willing to die, which smoothed out his doubts about his death. He could follow through with his mother’s order, and while it wouldn’t absolve his mortal soul, he would at least be able to sleep at night.

He turned around.

"István. Before you leave, listen to me."

He turned back around. Koppány was giving him a measuring look, though there was a trace of emotion on his face that hadn't been there before.

"My daughter Réka is a follower of God just like you," he stated. "If you see her…"

István's memory flashed back to the feast. He remembered the young woman pleading on her knees for her father's body. That must have been Réka. It pained him that they had never had a chance to interact as kinfolk; his mother had always made sure he never got too close to his uncle's family growing up.

"Réka… she came to the feast celebrating my victory over you. She believed you were dead, and had begged me to give her your body so she could give you an honourable burial," István said softly.

Koppány made an odd noise that sounded like a strangled sob or a laugh.

"My bold, foolish child… she is a good daughter to think of her father," he whispered. "I hope she retains her good heart. What did you say to her pleas?"

István inhaled sharply. He didn’t want to answer, but he was replying before he had a chance to stop himself.

"I could not do a thing for her. Mother became enraged and pushed her away, saying that you would be made an example of for future rebels. Her words galvanized my courtiers, and she ordered Réka to flee or die where she stood. I lost sight of her in the mob, and I do not know where she is now."

Koppány's hands balled into fists, and he made a sound that was too muffled for István to hear. Finally he sighed and looked at István sadly.

"I hope for her sake that she has run as far away as she could, and that she has a peaceful life under your rule. That would put me at ease," he said.

István nodded.

"I swear I will not allow any harm to come to her."

"Good."

They stared at each other, the weight of unsaid words and goodbyes hanging like a heavy weight between them. Their silence was as fragile as glass; one word would shatter it beyond repair.

István turned and walked away from the cell. Nothing else needed to be said.

It was time to prepare for the execution.

**Author's Note:**

> \- Vajk was István's birth name prior to being baptized.
> 
> \- Géza's trivial belief in God is taken from history; although he was baptized, he continued to practice pagan worship, but nonetheless was generous and kind toward Christians. The fact of him "slaughtering most of his kin" is debatable (the man who made the claim, Engel Pál, was a medievalist with no degree in history), but given the curious lack of mention of them post AD 972, I inserted it into the story while writing and it stayed during the editing process.


End file.
